


Alright

by Iwillseduceyouwithmyweirdness



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:00:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27958043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwillseduceyouwithmyweirdness/pseuds/Iwillseduceyouwithmyweirdness
Summary: sort of a 5 + 1 of Peter struggling and not getting the help he needs, and the one time Tony helps him.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 16
Kudos: 144





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Anyone who has ready any of my other works knows i'm pretty sporadic at updating, so youll be pleased to know that this work is complete, so updates will be regular!
> 
> For the record, I'm not sure how much of a 5 + 1 this is, and how much it is just snapshots which happen to fit this structure, but i hope you like it!
> 
> Please be mindful of the tags and keep yourselves safe <3

Peter knows he’s gone too far this time. Its not even a big moment – or it shouldn’t be. But he can’t miss the way Mr Stark’s hand are still, hovering over the keyboard mid word, his eyebrows tugged together in a frown.

‘I’ll get a cloth.’ He says, trying to break through the awkwardness that has settled in the lab.

‘No, hang on a minute – ’

Peter does not _hang on_. Instead he bolts, hurrying to the opposite end of the lab where they keep the dustpan and brush and the assortment of cleaning products for the inevitable breakages. Well, they’re inevitable when Peter is around anyway, he thinks bitterly. Classic Parker luck.

Somehow, one flippant comment has now changed the entire atmosphere in the room, and it’s all his fault. So, he takes his time gathering the things he needs to clean up the entire beaker of webfluid that is now shattered all over the floor.

As Peter makes his way back to the mess, he can’t help but notice that Tony is waiting for him, arms folded, frown still in place.

He would like to believe that he can still fix this; that he can palm this off as a simple misunderstanding and never mention it again. At the very least, he hopes he can just ignore the problem and hope it goes away. That’s his usual method for these things.

‘Pete, are we going to talk about that?’

‘About what?’ Peter asks, pleading ignorant. He’s steadfastly focusing on sweeping up the sticky mess of congealed webs and glass, but he’s sure Tony is rolling his eyes.

‘About what you said.’

Peter’s hands shake.

‘ _We need to talk about it_ ,’ Tony presses when he gets no response.

‘It’s nothing.’

‘Peter,’ and that’s when he _knows_ he’s lost; Tony never calls him by his full name. ‘It’s _not nothing_. You said you wanted to die.’

‘Yeah, as a _joke_.’ He finally looks up. Tony looks tired; he’s pinching his nose in that way he only does when he’s really stressed. It doesn’t sit well that Peter is the one that’s causing this, even over something so small. ‘Everyone says it.’

‘I’ve never heard anyone say that.’

‘That’s because you’re _old_.’ Peter presses, trying not to think about the small part of his mind that knows that there is some truth in the joke. Sure, he’s not actively planning to do anything terrible, but he wouldn’t try _too hard_ to save himself if the need arose. After all, how often had he thought it about not catching himself when he was swinging though the city? Just one mistimed web and he would finally be able to rest. No one would have to know it wasn’t accidental.

But that wasn’t what this was. _This was just a harmless joke_ , he convinced himself.

‘I’m not old.’ Tony said in mock offence.

‘I’m afraid you are – can’t keep up with the trends of today’s youths.’

‘I’m so down with the kids! I watch tiktok and everything.’

‘Mr Stark, no one’s said _down with the kids_ unironically since about 2004. You’re officially old.’

‘I’m approaching middle age at worst.’ Tony said, getting down on the floor next to Peter to help him gather the last big shards of glass. ‘Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. Deflecting won’t get you far.’

Peter’s stomach dropped a little more.

‘It really was just a joke, Mr Stark,’ he said, but he couldn’t meet his mentor’s eyes.

‘I don’t want to hear you joking about that again, Pete, suicide – ’ Peter flinched, ‘ – is not a topic anyone should be making light of, alright. Just because the kids these days are doing it doesn’t make it _cool_ or whatever.’

‘I know.’

‘I know you do, bud. Just promise me you’ll come to me if you ever feel like – like that.’

‘I will.’ Peter murmured, but the lie left him empty. He was too far gone to ask for help.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uni is kicking my butt at the minute, so heres another chapter! 
> 
> Please be mindful of the tags, this chapter contains self harm, so don't read it if you're not up to it!! <3

Not two nights later, Peter is faced with the exact moment that he promised Mr Stark he would tell him about.

He’s sat on the fire escape at the back of his and May’s apartment. May is already in bed; the recent run of shifts she’s been given are longer than she’s worked in a while and by the time she gets home, she’s so wiped out that she goes straight to bed after dinner. Peter doesn’t mind – it leaves him more time to patrol. But he’s learnt that Tony will know if he says out after his 10pm curfew.

Karen really can be a snitch sometimes.

So instead, he sits out here. The sounds of the city surround him. Some nights it’s comforting; others, not so much. Tonight, it’s the latter. The sirens are too loud. The noise of tipsy strangers heading out to the bars sets his teeth on edge. He wishes the Xanax he takes each day wouldn’t be metabolised so quickly; maybe it would stop the way his heart rate spikes every time he hears someone shout in the street below.

So, he copes.

Not in a way that Tony would like, but a way that helps; at least for a little while.

Peter had turned to hurting himself well before he ever became spiderman. He couldn’t remember the first time he had done it, but it was something that had stuck. Sometimes, he stopped for a month or so, but often (like now) it’s almost a daily problem.

Peter is about to begin his nightly routine when he suddenly remembers what Mr Stark had said: _promise me you’ll come to me if you ever feel like that_. And doesn’t just the thought of letting Mr Stark down make Peter want to cry?

This was the exact moment Tony had been talking about.

Peter paused, shirt already rucked up, side exposed. There were already so many scars there, all in different stages of healing.

He hesitated, picked up his phone.

This was the moment he was meant to ask for help, right? He has a blade in one hand, phone in the other; somehow, it feels like the ultimate choice. Mr Stark would definitely pick up if he called – their relationship is a lot better these days; Tony takes more of an interest in him. Tony had _asked_ him to talk.

But asking for help has never been one of his strong suits and the cold metal somehow still feels more comforting than the electronic glow of the screen. Somehow, the blade always wins.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 
> 
> Here is my next chapter!
> 
> As always, please mind the tags <3

Peter is sick. He doesn’t get sick – not since the bite – but he is.

One of the cuts he made last night is red and inflamed and it’s too much of a coincidence for it not to be the cause.

For once, Peter is happy that May is working a double shift at the hospital; at least this way, he can fix this before she has to find out. He knows, however, that Tony will know something is wrong as soon as he puts the suit on, so he puts it off as long as possible.

But crime doesn’t stop just because spiderman is under the weather, so at 7.59pm, he bites the bullet and heads out.

‘Hi, Peter,’ Karen greets. ‘I’m detecting an abnormal body temperature and – ’

‘I know, Karen, but please, please can you not tell Mr Stark?’

‘It’s my job to pass on all the information about patrols to him. This seems like something he would want to know about.’

‘I know. But I’m taking care of it. I don’t want to worry him unnecessarily.’

‘ _Incoming call from Tony Stark_.’

‘You told him?’ Peter moaned, beginning to climb higher in order to get a better view of the city below. ‘Karen, hang up.’

‘Hi kiddo.’

‘ _Shit,_ ’ Peter gasped, struggling to pull himself over the ledge onto the roof of the apartment block he was climbing due to the burning in the cut on his side.

‘Kid?’

‘Hi Mr St – Mr Stark,’ Peter choked, pain making it hard to breathe.

‘What’s going on? Karen says you’re sick. Why are you patrolling?’

‘It’s nothing.’

‘Oh yeah, sure, a temperature of 38.4 is nothing, right?’

‘Really, I feel fine. No fever here.’ Peter assured, ignoring the way that the surrounding buildings swam in his vision.

‘Yeah, no, I call bullshit.’ Silence stretched between the two of them.

Peter could just imagine Tony down in the lab, sleeves rolled up, sifting through the data that Karen was sending him, trying to work out what was wrong. The one benefit was that he had long since hacked the suit to ensure that she didn’t send Mr Stark any details of the injuries he _already had_ when he put the suit on, so his habit seemed safe for now.

Tony sighed. ‘Kid.’ His voice was muffled as if he was rubbing his hand over his face in the way that he always seemed to when Peter did something he thought was particularly dumb. ‘You know I can’t let you patrol when you’re sick. Aunt Hottie would kill me. Nope – ’ he said, already anticipating Peter’s protest, ‘that’s my final word on the subject. Queens will survive one night without their neighbourhood spiderman.’

‘Fine,’ Peter said, defeated, but not exactly disappointed. He felt terrible, and his bed was calling to him – maybe he could just sleep it off and hope his super healing did the rest?

‘Good,’ Tony said, softer. ‘Now, tell me what your symptoms are.’

Peter sat down, thinking about what he should disclose and what he shouldn’t. ‘Well, I’m pretty tired.’ Distantly, he was aware of a faint humming sound that was suspiciously similar to the noise the Iron Man suit made, but he tried to convince himself it was just a low flying plane.

‘Uh huh, what else?’

‘The fever.’

Tony hummed. ‘The one you told me about 3 minutes ago that you didn’t have?’

‘That would be the one.’

‘Damn it, Pete.’ There was frustration laced in his voice. Peter clenched his jaw, trying to ignore how the hum of thrusters was coming closer, and how he still hadn’t moved from the building he was sat on. It was almost like he _wanted_ Tony to come and get him. ‘You have to tell me these things – without me having to call you up and force the information out of you _._ I didn’t even think you _could_ get sick anymore.’

Peter hadn’t thought he could either. By now, he could see the faint speck of the Iron Man suit coming ever closer. _I’m so screwed,_ he thought.

‘It’s probably just flu or something.’ Peter sighed, fear turning to anger as Mr Stark – or at least his drone – came every nearer.

‘That’s still not a good thing, Pete.’

‘I’m fine.’ He protested, watching the suit land. It opened, revealing an empty cavity where Mr Stark should have been. Peter wasn’t entirely sure if he was relieved or disappointed that Tony hadn’t made the trip himself.

‘Hop in.’


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you're staying positive and testing negative!
> 
> As always, please bear the tags in mind <3

The ride back to the compound was oddly quiet. About half way there, it occurred to Peter that maybe the Iron Man suit would be scanning him too, and in that case, he was totally screwed. Tony would know exactly what the source of his illness was as soon as the results came in. And he’d know Peter’s big secret too. His stomach rolled uneasily, in a way that definitely had more to do with nerves than the fever.

‘I want to take bloods for the medical team to analyse,’ Tony said by way of a greeting as Peter landed.

‘Alright.’ He mumbled as the suit unfolded itself around him, following Tony into the building. His head was still swimming, and anger was still bubbling just under the surface, making it difficult for him to string sentences together.

‘Bruce is qualified to draw blood, he’s waiting for us in the common room.’ Peter bobbed his head, squeezing his eyes shut in the hopes of negating some of the dizziness.

‘The fact that you were in your suit meant I couldn’t scan you on the way over,’ Tony said, filling the silence in the elevator. ‘So I want you to step into the full body scanner in a minute to check you don’t have any injuries you’re hiding from me. I’ve told you before they can get infected without proper treatment, and you do seem to have a tendency for hiding stab wounds.’

‘That was two times!’

‘Once is stupid but forgivable, twice is wilfully ignorant.’

Peter bit his lip; he knew that his mentor still didn’t fully believe his lame excuses as to why he hadn’t got medical attention for those injuries. The truth was that he knew he didn’t deserve it. And besides, he spilt his own skin open enough that someone else doing it didn’t seem important enough to bother Mr Stark with.

Once out of the lift, Tony helped Peter into the sofa while Bruce set up a tourniquet.

‘When did this start?’ Bruce asked, pushing up the sleeve of Peter’s suit.

‘I felt bad when I woke up this morning.’

‘And what did you do about it?’

‘I went to school.’ At Tony’s dark look, Peter rushed to elaborate, ‘I had this big chem test today see, and I couldn’t – couldn’t miss it. And like you guys said, I can’t get sick, so its gotta be nothing, right? I figured it would be fine to go.’

‘What did your Aunt say about it? Surely she wasn’t happy with you going to school like this?’

Peter looked away as Bruce picked up the needle; he’d always hated having his blood taken. Normally, he wasn’t squeamish, but watching the blood slowly fill the syringe always made him feel ill, which was not something he needed more of, given his current situation. ‘She was still in bed when I left,’ he squeaked, closing his eyes, and breathing deeply, ‘she’s working nights right now.’

‘Oh, so that’s how you managed to get away with it for so long – no one’s seen you.’

Ducking his head, Peter nodded. He didn’t miss the look that the two scientists shared as Bruce began to pack away his medical supplies.

‘Go change, kid, the test results will be back in no time and then we can work out what we’re gonna do next.’


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone had a happy holidays!

Peter had planned to hide in his room as long as possible; he felt terrible and was dreading the coming conversation with Tony. There would be too many white blood cells in the sample to pretend he didn’t have an infection. As much as he wracked his brain, he couldn’t think of an explanation that wouldn’t warrant Tony taking a look at the injury, and then he would be well and truly fucked.

He dressed slowly, taking his time to pull his hoodie on so as not to tug too much on his side which was still throbbing dully.

‘ _Boss is requesting your immediate presence in the common room, Peter_.’

‘Thanks Fri.’ Peter sighed, glancing in the mirror. He looked terrible; his hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and his skin looked sallow, making the bags under his eyes stand out even more. Running a shaking hand through his hair attempting to make it look a little better, he left, heading back to the main floor and his ultimate doom.

Peter didn’t fail to notice Dr Banner and Mr Stark’s worried looks when he entered the room. Quickly, he made his way to one of the armchairs across from the pair and buried himself into it, trying to make himself as small as possible. Their matching looks made him nervous; his fight or flight response was begging him to run.

‘Before we start, is there anything you think we should know?’ Tony asked, scrutinising him in a way that made it clear that the blood test had revealed some crucial piece of information which he was hoping Peter would admit to.

‘Uh, no.’ Peter couldn’t meet their eyes.

‘Wrong answer, kiddo. Do you want to take a guess at what the bloods showed up?’

Peter swallowed thickly, willing himself not to tear up. ‘White blood cells?’

‘Yeah. It seems you have a fairly major infection – although I think you already knew that. Brucie Bear seems to think that it’s from an injury which you’re clearly not telling us about – we’ll get to that in a moment. What else do you think we found?’

‘I don’t know.’ Peter said honestly.

‘ _You don’t know?_ Peter, you’re telling me you _don’t know_ how FRIDAY found Xanax in your bloods? That it just got in there by accident? I call bullshit buddy.’

‘ _Fuck_ ,’ Peter’s stomach clenched sharply, heart rate rocketing. _How could I have been so stupid?_ ‘I – it’s – it’s not – well, I just – ’

‘You’re an addict now? Jesus Pete, I would have thought you’d have heard enough about my struggle with addiction to never go near anything like this.’

‘No! It’s – they’re my anxiety meds.’ Peter said, defeated.

‘You’re on medication?’ Bruce questioned, frowning and glancing to Tony. ‘You didn’t tell me that.’

‘Does it look like I knew?’ Tony retorted.

‘I honestly thought it would have been flushed out of my system by now.’ Peter justifies, ‘that’s – that’s why I didn’t tell you.’ _That, and the fact that I don’t want you to take the suit away when you realise how badly I’m coping._

‘Not necessarily. The amount that showed up was small – though not insignificant – and it would make sense. I did some work developing sedatives for Cap a few years back, and we found he metabolised benzos slower than most other things – remember Tony? We didn’t get to the bottom of why, but it does seem to be a theme. Does your medication still work for you?’

‘Uh – for the first couple of hours.’

Tony was unnervingly quiet. Although Peter wasn’t looking at him, he could feel his eyes boring into him. It felt far too exposing; as if somehow Tony could see straight into his mind and hear his thoughts.

‘You see a psychiatrist then?’ Bruce asked, making notes.

Grimacing, Peter nodded. He only went as often as his insurance would allow. Besides, he was _supposed_ to be better. That’s what May thought. His Xanax prescription was due to be reassessed soon, and with his supposed miracle recovery, his therapist had already started talking about weaning him back off them. Little did she know that he hadn’t really got any better at all.

‘You shouldn’t be taking something so addictive.’ Tony blurted suddenly.

‘I need them.’

‘That’s exactly what an addict would say.’

‘ _Tony_ ,’ Bruce warned, ‘Peter’s been prescribed them by a professional, you need to rein it in.’

‘I don’t want him getting addicted.’ He pushed, voice harsh. ‘I think we should phone his aunt and talk about this.’

‘I’m _right here_ , Mr Stark. Please don’t talk about me like I’m not in the room.’ Anger flared in Peter’s gut, bubbling to the surface once more.

‘Leave this to the adults, Pete.’

It was the final straw. ‘So I’m not old enough to have a say in my _own life?_ ’ He rose from his chair, no longer afraid of the consequences.

‘I didn’t mean it like that. Sit down and we can talk about it – ’

Peter raised his chin, looking directly into his mentor’s eyes. ‘ _Fuck you._ ’


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! sorry i left this so late to update! I've been super swamped with changes to my uni course, but i hope you enjoy!!

‘FRIDAY, close the doors,’ Peter gasped as he made it into the elevator. He could hear someone calling after him – whether it was Tony or Bruce, he wasn’t sure, but there was no way he was sticking around to find out. ‘Take me to the roof.’

Surprisingly, being in such a small space made him less panicky; it was the complete opposite feeling to how he sometimes felt when he stared out over the expanse of New York. All that space, there was so many places for people to ambush him from. Not here, though. In this tiny metal box, he was finally safe. ‘FRI, stop the – stop the lift please.’

‘ _Peter, you’re in between the training and living quarters, would you like me to continue to one of those?’_

‘No,’ he licked his lips, willing his brain into action, ‘just here’s fine. Thanks. And can you – can you not let anyone in please?’

He slid down the wall, slowly coming to rest on the floor and allowing his head to thunk back onto the cool metal behind him. This day really was going from bad to worse in all senses of the word. At least now he could have a blissful five minutes of peace; he could at last –

‘ _Peter, Boss is requesting entry._ ’

‘Shit.’ Peter groaned, couldn’t Tony let him have a little bit of time to himself? ‘Tell – tell him to leave me alone.’

For a moment, Peter thought that Mr Stark might actually listen to him for once. He just needed time to figure out what he was supposed to do now. Nothing felt the same anymore; people knew about his mental health issues and everything now felt _off_ somehow. As if his whole world had been tilted to the left by 10 degrees – not enough to notice at first, but plenty to make everything feel a little unstable.

Not only that, but a new wave of nausea had come over him, reminding him all too clearly why exactly he was in this situation in the first place. The cut on his side ached dully.

‘ _Incoming call from Tony.’_ FRIDAY said, voice calm. It made Peter want to hit something.

‘Pete – ’

‘Can’t you leave me alone for _five minutes?_ ’ Peter burst, voice shaking slightly, head still spinning.

‘Kid, I’m so sorry. I was way out of line. Please can we just talk?’ Peter could hear Bruce saying something in the background, although he couldn’t quite make out what he was saying.

‘I can’t, Mr Stark. I can’t – ’

‘That’s alright bud, just take a moment, we’ve got plenty of time.’

Peter held his breath, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to settle his stomach.

‘Can you tell me what’s going on?’ Tony pressed.

‘I – I wish you guys didn’t know about all of this.’

‘How come?’

‘It’s – I don’t know – it’s all awkward now. I hate that you’re all gonna look at me differently now.’

‘Kid,’ Tony sighed. ‘I won’t lie to you, there might be times we look at you differently now – ’

Peter cursed.

‘ _But_ , that’s only a good thing. We can help make things more manageable now we know. We can work on some antidepressants that work for 24 hours instead of 3 for a start.’

Peter nodded, despite the fact that Tony couldn’t see him.

‘Now, I hate to ask at the minute Pete, but that infection seems pretty serious from what Bruce is saying, and I think you know more about it than you’re letting on. Can you tell us about it please?’

Not knowing what to do, Peter fiddled with the hem of his jumper. Logically, there was no way that Tony _wouldn’t_ find out about what he’d done – as soon as he let anything slip to him, it would not be dropped until Tony knew every last detail, and he supposed a serious injury would be top of Tony’s list for a long time.

But on the other hand, he already felt so exposed, and the thought of revealing another secret about himself made him want to pack his bags and keep running.

‘It’s just a cut that’s gotten infected.’ He said. It wasn’t a lie, but it some of the finer details were definitely being left out.

‘How did it happen?’

‘On patrol.’

‘ _Peter._ ’ Tony scalded, frustration laced through his voice, ‘Karen says you’ve not sustained any injuries on patrol – and while we’re on the subject of Karen, we will be changing her coding back to alerting me to any injuries you have, not just the ones you get while you’re wearing the suit – so come on. Spill. What’s really going on here?’

‘I _told_ you, its just a cut.’

‘How did it happen?’ Tony asked again, more forceful this time.

Peter let his breath hiss out between his teeth. His side was throbbing again, and he felt weaker than ever. ‘I cut myself,’ he said past the lump in his throat, hoping Tony wouldn’t catch on to the full connotations of what he had said.

‘On what?’

‘It – see, the thing is, Mr Stark, it uh – it wasn’t exactly an accident?’ Peter said, cringing at how his voice wobbled.

‘It wasn’t an accident?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean? How could it not be an – oh. Pete, buddy I’m sorry. Are you saying you did this to yourself?’

‘I think I need some help.’ Peter said in leu of an answer.

‘We can do that buddy. Will you let us in please so that we can treat the infection? We can have a sit down and talk about where we go from here after that, okay?’

Peter nodded and the lift began to move. While he knew that the subsequent few months were going to be awkward and uncomfortable, a part of him also felt relieved that he finally didn’t have to keep everything a secret anymore.


End file.
